


Breakfast in France

by LectorEl



Series: Magic Triplets [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Young Avengers
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-05
Updated: 2012-05-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 10:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/621211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LectorEl/pseuds/LectorEl





	Breakfast in France

_He stumbles, skin blood slicked, matted thickly with scars. Everything is a blur. Pain, intolerable pain, overlays everything. All he knows, all he can think, is that he needs to get **away**. The alleyway spins, graffiti twisting into a sickening haze of garish colors. He stumbles, falling, and hits the ground. Everything goes black._

***

Tim wakes up, heart racing. He glances at his alarm clock. Barely two. He muffles a groan in his pillow. One night. That’s all he wants. One good night’s sleep. He glances over to Tommy’s bed to check if he woke him. Empty.

“Oh good, you’re up,” Tommy drawls from the doorway. “Come on, lets get breakfast in France while they’re still serving it. I found a cheap place last week.”

Tim smiles at him gratefully. “Give me a minute to get dressed, geez.”

“Tick tock, tick tock.” Tommy steps into the hallway, and Tim takes the opportunity to change quickly. Tommy is the only one in the house who _has_ seen his scars, but they’re not something he wants to broadcast. They tend to make for…awkward…questions.

Tim shrugs on his sweater and steps out. “Shall we?”

Tommy smirks. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.” Tim hooks his arms around Tommy’s shoulders and relaxes into the speedster’s hold. 

**

Four hours later, around dawn, they arrive back at the Kaplan’s house. Ms. Kaplan greets them with a frown.

“Next time you go someplace, leave a note first.”

“Sorry, Ms. Kaplan,” Tim apologizes. He ducks his head. The Kaplans are disturbingly well adjusted. Tim’s not used to parents who actually believe in being actively involved in their children's lives. It’s completely alien to all his previous experience and it freaks him out a little, to be honest. From what Tommy’s been willing to share, he’s in the same boat. Which, speaking of-

He elbows Tommy. “Sorry,” The other boy mutters. Ms. Kaplan lets them go, and Tim pulls Tommy up to their shared room. He jams a chair under the door, and without a word, Tommy helps him move his heavy salvation-army trunk in front of the chair.

Tim wrestles Tommy down onto his bed, using all the dirty tricks knowing Bart had taught him.

“We have _got_ to work on your ability to lie.” Tim drops his head down on Tommy’s shoulder. “There are times when smiling and swallowing shit is to your advantage, you know?”

Tommy snorts. “That’s your specialty, Timmy. Me? I’m done ‘yes, sir’ing and ‘no, sir’ing.”

“I’ll just have to do it for you them.” Tim grins at Tommy. “Think I could pull off white hair?”

“White?” Tommy arches an eyebrow. “ _Excuse me_? My hair is _silver_ , thank you very much.”

Tim muffles a laugh in Tommy’s collarbone. “I’m sorry, your Vainness. Silver.”

“That’s better. And no. You don’t have my…” Tommy gestures grandly.

“Je ne se quoi?” Tim suggests. Tommy snorts.

“And people say I’m a smart-ass.”

“Seriously, though,” Tim says, holding Tommy’s gaze. “Think about it please?”

“Fine, fine,” Tommy grumbles. Tim smiles at him, and shuts his eyes.

“Excellent. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have four hours of sleep to catch up on.”

Tommy shoves at Tim. “Hey! Get off me!”

“Too late. Already asleep.” Tim wiggles into a more secure pin. “Shush, pillow. Sleeping here.”

Tommy glares halfheartedly, and heaves a sigh. “Manipulative jerk.” He pushes Tim until he can use his arm as a pillow, and shuts his eyes.


End file.
